The coolies worked away, and the Man's Wife and the Tertium Quid watched and talked for a couple of hours while the grave was being deepened. Then a coolie, taking the earth in baskets as it was thrown up, jumped over the grave.
"That's queer," said the Tertium Quid. "Where's my ulster?"
"What's queer," said the Man's Wife.
"I have got a chill down my back—just as if a goose had walked over my grave."
"Why do you look at the horror, then?" said the Man's Wife. "Let us go."
The Tertium Quid stood at the head of the grave, and stared without answering for a space. Then he said, dropping a pebble down: "It is nasty—and cold: horribly cold. I don't think I shall come to the Cemetery any more. I don't think grave-digging is cheerful."
The two talked and agreed that the Cemetery was depressing. They also arranged for a ride next day, out from the Cemetery through the Mashobra Tunnel up to Fagoo and back, because all the world was going to a garden party at Viceregal Lodge, and all the people of Mashobra would go too.
Coming up the Cemetery road, the Tertium Quid's horse tried to bolt uphill, being tired with standing so long, and managed to strain a back-sinew.
"I shall have to take the mare to-morrow," said the Tertium Quid, "and she will stand nothing heavier than a snaffle."
They made their arrangements to meet in the Cemetery, after allowing all the Mashobra people time to pass into Simla. That night it rained heavily, and, next day, when the Tertium Quid came to the trysting-place, he saw that the new grave had a foot of water in it, the ground being a tough and sour clay.
"Jove! That looks beastly," said the Tertium Quid. "Fancy being boarded up and dropped into that well!"
They then started off to Fagoo, the mare playing with
